Madrid. Café Comercial, 05/12/2018. Trio VibrArt: Miguel Colom (violin), Fernando Arias (cello) y Juan Pérez Floristán (piano). Works of Franz Schubert, Trio No, 2 in E flat major, D929; Dmitri Shostakovich, Trio No. 2 in E minor, op. 67.
By definition, it is impossible to grasp what is ungraspable. And that is what happens “just a little” with that ephemeral art which is music: grasping it becomes impossible. However, —even if we cannot grasp it— that “just a little” is what makes us enjoy music “just a lot”, instant by instant, as time passes by, when the sound waves, by some kind of organic magic, get transformed in our brains and turn into beautiful sounds and harmonic melodies which make us vibrate in tune. Very, very few times that succession of sonic instants turns into truly vibrant art. And that is precisely what the Trio VibrArt achieved at Café Comercial in Madrid. There are moments when you become aware of the transcendence of what you are witnessing, when you realize something is far beyond mere entertainment. I think I am not mistaken by saying that those of us who were witnesses of the Trio VibrArt recital would agree and state that Miguel Colom (violin), Fernando Arias (cello) and Juan Pérez Floristán (piano) created not just good, but exceptional and unique vibrant art. They raised the bar beyond the immense height —and hard to match— of the two composers they performed: Schubert and Shostakovich.
The quality of The London Music N1ghts cycle —sponsored by The London Nº 1— at Café Comercial is growing with each recital. And this is a real challenge for both the artists to come —they are expected to rise the challenge— and the audience attending those recitals —they do not want to be let down. The alma mater of the cycle, Benjamín G. Rosado, hit the bullseye by bringing in the Trio Vibrart to Madrid. On the programme, two chamber music works by two great composers with unmistakable trademarks: the Trio No. 2 in E flat major D929 by Franz Schubert and the Trío No. 2 in E minor op. 67 by Dmitri Shostakovich. These two works are separated by 116 years, but closely connected by the presence of death: Schubert’s work was written in 1828, the year of his death, and it is a real swan song; Shostakovich’s work was written in 1944 amidst the horrors of World War II, it is an anguished song evoking the Jewish holocaust.
Miguel Colom (violin), Juan Pérez Floristan (piano), Fernando Arias (cello).
The first part of the recital started with Juan Pérez Floristán as a master of ceremonies. With that particular high pitch and delicate voice of his —something striking given the strength and powerful character of his hands on the piano—, he explained the first of the works to be performed: Schubert’s Trio. It is a quite well known piece —Stanley Kubrik used its second movement in his 1975 film Barry Lyndon— by the audiences. It has four movements: Allegro, Andante con moto, Scherzo and Allegro moderato. It is a work of exquisite melodical beauty and expressive power. In their days, Schumann and Brahms admired this trio above Beethoven’s trios. It was also one of the last works Schubert could see performed before his passing away. It lasts between 40 to 50 minutes. The Trio VibrArt performed this work with a mental and sentimental inner vision, full of clearness and definition, which surpassed the greatness and highness of the schubertian melopoeia.
The second part of the recital was introduced once again by Juan Pérez Floristán in his own distinct voice. It was an invitation to an epiphany and a catharsis. Shostakovich’s work in four movements, full of Jewish melodies and dances, starts with a delicate and melancholic singing of the cello, in an extremely high pitch —all harmonics and really difficult. Then the violin joins in, in a very low pitch and, finally, the piano accompanies them both. The Trio VibrArt achieved the catharsis: expressiveness, anguish, contrast, dynamism, beauty, sentiment, power, struggle, rapture, delicacy… And lo and behold the epiphany: the three Spanish musicians manifested themselves as a real world reference in trio chamber music.
The enthusiastic applause of the audience, aware of the exceptional performance they had just witnessed, had its reward when the cellist Fernando Arias —interestingly, also with a high pitch and delicate voice that does not match the low pitch and powerful sound of his cello— announced that, as an encore, they would be playing one of Federico Mompou’s Scenes from Childhood arranged for the trio by Juan Pérez Floristán. This short arrangement showed, once again, the musical genius and penetrating intelligence of Juan Pérez Floristán. The Trio VibrArt: vibrant, epiphanic and cathartic!
Variation on a Rococo Theme & Piano Trio op. 50 by Tchaikovsky performed by Sergei Istomin (cello), Claire Chevallier (fortepiano) and Martin Reinmann (violin). Label Passacaille.
Works for piano solo by Clara & Robert Schumann, Schubert and Liszt performed by William Youn. Label Sony.
The first thick digit, just a simple finger they call thumb.
It is that strong finger which shows all its strength and greatness
when it is lifted up. It is the finger that says:
EVERYTHING is going to be ALRIGHT.
Never forget that when you point the finger at someone,
there are three other fingers no one see which are pointing at you as well.
“There are books in which the footnotes, or the comments scrawled by some reader’s hand in the margin, are more interesting than the text. The world is one of those books.” ― George Santayana (1863-1952)
What is life? This is an old question that many of us human beings have been asking ourselves for centuries. Philosophers, scientists, artists, writers, ordinary people… And lots of answers have been given as well; some convincing, some less convincing and some others completely unsatisfactory. But in the end it all comes down to living… and living well. No-one likes problems or having trouble going through life. Unfortunately, we all come across problems in our ways and try to find solutions to them. The thing is that sometimes solutions come hard and it may even seem impossible to find them no matter how hard you try. So, what to do when you have been struggling to change things in your life and you still end up pretty much in the same place? What to do when it seems no transformation is possible? Yes, I know, you may be thinking that there is always “transformation” —something Heraclitus said thousands of years ago—, but I mean that “transformation” you really want in your life. Well, here your are a tip: know your limitations and accept them. This is a good start, but not enough if you still want to transform your life. That is why I chose that quote of Santayana. Let’s assume life is just a book we cannot change. Sometimes its text may be so dull and boring that we want out of our particular chapter. But the text is written in indelible letters and either we keep reading the rest of it or quit, and by “quit” I mean “die”. So, the only alternative we have left is to use our resources to scrawl comments in the margin or add footnotes to make our lives more interesting —and remember, the first person to whom your life must be more interesting is YOU. And this is my suggestion: if you want to transform the book of your life, just start by writing in the margin and become the world you want to live in. Then you may even realize that the assumption that you cannot change the book of your life is wrong.
Now, don’t be fooled. Using your resources requires effort and perseverance. It is nothing magical, but practical, that is, you need practice, practice and practice.
I am writing these lines while I am listening to Musica Ficta perform the Requiem by Tomas Luis de Victoria. I chose this music for practical reasons. Victoria was born in the province of Avila. He was a catholic priest and arguably the greatest Spanish composer of all times; he spent part of his life in Rome and died in Madrid in 1611. He became a choirboy at Avila Cathedral were he was trained as a musician before leaving for Rome, where he masterfully wrote the greatest music. So, what? What are those practical reasons? Let me first tell you that it is not Tomas Luis de Victoria the one I want to write about, but another man born over 250 years after Victoria’s death: George Santayana. So… what? What is still practical about your reasons? Well, Santayana was born in Madrid and spent his early childhood in Avila before moving to the United States, where he became a philosopher, an essayist, a poet and a novelist. So, what? Santayana loved cathedrals and died in Rome. Can you connect the dots? Madrid, Avila, Rome…
I think I should first explain how I came across George Santayana —quite a chance encounter by the way—, whom I had never heard of in my life. Of course, since he died in 1952, I do not mean I met him personally unless I were dead —knock on wood!— and had that strange power of coming back to life from the afterworld. No, my encounter with him was a bit more intelectual than physical. It was reading Invitation to Philosophizing Following The Spirit and Writings of Antonio Machado (“Invitación a filosofar según espíritu y letra de Antonio Machado”) by Juan David García Bacca —another Spanish philosopher— that I read the name “Jorge Santayana”. It caught my attention, because I had never heard of him before, and my attention turned into curiosity when I found out about him and got to know that Santayana had written all of his books in English. Actually, he changed the Spanish name “Jorge” —roughly pronounced ‘Horhey’— by “George” and he is considered one of the greatest American writers of the 20th century. However, he always remained Spanish. That was striking to me! Was it possible that a Spanish born in 1863 would turn into an American man of letters? After a little research I did, I manage to buy one of his books, Persons and Places, at Menosdiez, a little second-hand bookshop in Madrid downtown. I wanted to try and see whether he really was such a great writer as they said. Santayana had been a nominee to the Pulitzer Prize for his novel The Last Puritan (1936), but he was never awarded with the prize, apparently because he was not an American citizen and had always kept his Spanish passport.
And what a great writer he is indeed! I loved Persons and Places, an autobiography written at his late 70s where he beautifully describes an amazing life of academical achievements, travelling and philosophy. The book is divided up into sixteen chapters where he speaks about his origins in Spain, his teenage years in Boston, his achievements at Harvard University as an adult and his later return to Europe when he quit Harvard at age 48.
George Santayana may be the writer —not only prose but poetry as well, see A poet’s testament and O World— who best wrote about Spain in English. And for sure reading Persons and Places is a great exercise for those of us who want to master the English language and the knowledge about life in the late 19th and early 20th centuries in the United States, Spain and Europe. In all that regards himself, his thoughts, or his happiness, Santayana crossed a desert more than once in his life; so that when he looks back over those years, he sees objects, he sees public events, he sees persons and places, but he doesn’t see himself. His inner life, as he recalls it, seems to be concentrated in a few oases, in a few halting places, Green Inns, or Sanctuaries, where the busy traveller stopped to rest, to think, and to be himself. Now you may understand the practical reasons why I chose the music of Victoria while I was writing these lines. If you don’t, don’t worry, maybe someday you too will connect the dots.
Finite time is nothing but a mere notary that records the life of each person without judging it: the achievements, the feats, the prowess, the failures, the mistakes, the misunderstandings… And when one comes to the end of his time, one cannot but take stock and turn into a kind of forced judge of his vital undertakings. Only the magnanimity of he who judges himself will save him from regretting to have led an undesirable or ill-fated life. And also only when one listens, he will come to understand just a little of those around him. Time and listening… Lo and behold the marvellous formula.
What is life? This is an old question that many of us human beings have been asking ourselves for centuries. Philosophers, scientists, artists, writers, ordinary people… And lots of answers have been given as well; some convincing, some less convincing and some others completely unsatisfactory. But in the end it all comes down to living… and living well. No-one likes problems or having trouble going through life. Unfortunately, we all come across problems in our ways and try to find solutions to them. The thing is that sometimes solutions come hard and it may even seem impossible to find them no matter how hard you try. So, what to do when you have been struggling to change things in your life and you still end up pretty much in the same place? What to do when it seems no transformation is possible? Yes, I know, you may be thinking that there is always “transformation” —something Heraclitus said thousands of years ago—, but I mean that “transformation” you really want in your life. Well, here your are a tip: know your limitations and accept them. This is a good start, but not enough if you still want to transform your life. That is why I chose that quote of Santayana. Let’s assume life is just a book we cannot change. Sometimes its text may be so dull and boring that we want out of our particular chapter. But the text is written in indelible letters and either we keep reading the rest of it or quit, and by “quit” I mean “die”. So, the only alternative we have left is to use our resources to scrawl comments in the margin or add footnotes to make our lives more interesting 
I am writing these lines while I am listening to 
